Beck The Golden Age

put your hands on the wheel
let the golden age begin
let the window down
feel the moonlight on your skin
let the desert wind cool your aching head
let the weight of the world drift away instead

(ohh)
these days i barely get by
i don't even try

it's a treacherous road with a desolated view
there's distant lights but here they're far and few
and the sun don't shine even when it's day
you gotta drive all night just to feel like you're okay

(ohh)
these days i barely get by
i don't even try
i don't even try